Anger fueled by bad writing
by Beyond The Mat
Summary: Randy's pissed off when Cody gets hurt at Money In The Bank 2010. Showing a glimpse into their friendship as well.
1. Chapter 1

Watching the monitors had Randy furious. The script had -just- been finalized for the 2010 Smackdown MITB match when Cody went out, and all of those ladders on Big Show were beyond unnecessary. Kane had overdone it with Cody, and either Cody sold very well or he was actually hurt from being thrown into the vehicle.

Call it the care of a friend who's like a brother, or his instincts as the former Captain of Legacy kicking in, but he took his eyes from the monitor and stalked through the locker room, to and through the hallway, waiting to see Cody return and if he needed a trainer. He looked injured on those pixels of the screen and Randy was worried fucking sick. This was a disgusting, unprofessional night.

Cody walked backstage after the match, holding his head. As cool as he'd been with Kane, this was the second time he could remember that Kane hurt him. That he could remember, after hitting that damn truck, he forgot what the hell did for a living. He'd just take some Advil and put up with the headache in the morning. He saw Randy backstage, and gave a weak wave. "Headache, memory loss," was all Cody said.

"Fuck."

He yelled for a trainer, the yell possibly making Cody hate him for a minute, but given the wooziness Cody was displaying, Randy was thinking concussion. He asked Codes to just sit a second and that somebody was going to take a look at him.

Randy was fucking livid. THIS is what Cody got for killing himself between three shows, NXT, SmackDown and Superstars? THIS is how the future of this business was treated, and this was okay..why? Because Kane was trying to keep Undertaker...relevant? Fuck this. FUCK this.

Randy took a step away as the trainer started looking Cody over and flashing a penlight in his friend's eyes.

"Randy, I'm okay, really."  
>He lied, trying to wave the trainer away. The trainer ignored, his soft tone of voice and sluggish movements only giving him away. As hated how Randy could literally see right through him, no matter what the situation was. He sighed, and let the trainer do his job.<p>

The trainer called another trainer over for a second opinion. That trainer's penlight was done a little better and it was theorized that Cody took a hell of a hit but likely didn't have a concussion. He was offered a ride to the hospital. Randy figured Cody wouldn't go, because that's how they were - they took their bumps and unless ordered to go to an Emergency Room, they blew it off, because most of the trainers were good - but said if anybody was driving Cody, it would be -him-.

"You wanna go, bro?" he asked quietly, probably a lot more concernedly and softly than anybody was used to seeing from him. A part of him would always feel personally responsible for Cody. Some would think that would apply to Ted as well. No. When Ted fucked up, Randy felt that might reflect on him, but if a train hit Ted, Randy would say "that sucks" but not feel personally responsible somehow. Cody, he cared about legitimately.

"Yeah, let's just head out. Are you okay? Anything of interest happen in the past day or so?"  
>Cody asked, trying to change the conversation topic. He probably wouldn't listen, he could hardly listen to his own thoughts.<p>

"Not a whole lot. I'm good," he said, and he was at that time. He'd let Cody lead. If he wanted to get checked, Randy would take him, no questions asked. He kept his voice low, and thanked the trainers for checking him out.

"You want to shower here or should I just take you back to the hotel?" he asked, as he took Cody to the locker room and started packing Cody's bag up. To pack another guy's bag the right way...you better know them pretty well. And trust them. Randy took the same, if not more, care with Cody's stuff that he did his own. "You tell me, o Dashing one," he smiled.

"Shut up, and let's just go to the hotel. I have an early flight back home, so I'll handle everything there."  
>Cody said, before looking at him, a bit more seriously. "You think I should...look out for Eve, just in case Dave comes around or something. I don't know where the two stand at the moment."<br>He asked.

He took Cody out to the car, insisting on carrying both mens' bags. Obviously, that had been a hell of a shot to Cody's head if he told Randy to shut up. lol

He listened thoughtfully as Cody told him about his thoughts about looking out for Eve. While Randy didn't think Dave would be a problem, one never knew with Batista. Randy had in his own experience had his ass kicked enough by Dave to know that damage could be done. His face right -now- told the tale. But Dave was older, Cody younger and faster. It was safe to say Cody could kick ass if needed.

"Gimme your keys, Codes."

Randy was taking his housekey off the ring to put on Cody's. He appreciated the idea.

He then confided what had been done with Trish's ex-husband, although he didn't name the names of anybody else who'd gone out to do the drop-off at Alligator Alley. "In case that fucker shows up, and you remember him, he was nothing worthy of Trish, you could take him with your hands behind your back...yeah. Stay at my place if you don't mind. I'll owe you for it."

Soon, they were at the hotel and Randy insisted on carrying both bags, then, too. He was glad he'd left his own rental back here and ridden in with one of the RAW guys. That allowed him to drive Cody's rental back and not have to find someone to take him back to the venue. Things worked out for a reason.

Cody lazily nodded, holding the top of his head. "I was so fuckin' scared of those damned ladders, and in the end, its an armored truck that's my downfall. Don't even know how I finished that match, I couldn't see straight for a while." He sighed, getting out of the car. He went to grab his bag, but Randy already had it, and trying to argue with him now was a guaranteed loss. "I'm using guilt to get a title shot outta this." He chuckled.

Maybe Cody heard him, maybe Cody didn't, but Randy said it quietly. "I'm ready to put Kane in a vegetative motherfucking state for what he did to you."

A little louder, he said that if Cody didn't have the Intercontinental Championship within 3 months, Randy was going to personally pay a visit to Creative and find out why the fuck not. "I don't know if you're ready for the actual title yet. And you know it's not because I'm afraid you'll break my record, because you turned 25 last month, so that's off the table. I just..your Dashing thing's taking off. You're busting your ass and getting noticed for it. I just think you'd get more respect if you held that belt first." Like Randy did. The IC belt was a great springboard to stardom. Plus, it just had a nice look to it, unlike the spinner shit or the clunkiness of the WHC. If Randy had to pick a belt that he liked the look of best, it was the IC. "Unless you take Miz's title, which could be cool. Maybe they could work where he's got to put the briefcase on the line, too." When Randy thought about the heat Sheamus had taken because of the meteoric rise to the top, he didn't want Cody having that sort of backlash. So the IC route should be considered seriously, first.

He got Cody to his room and waited for the door to be opened so he could set his friend's stuff down. "You gonna be okay?"

"To be honest, I would have rather just been in a main event at a pay per view as a singles competitor, that's my next goal to tackle. And yeah, I'll be okay."  
>He nodded, getting a bottle of water.<p>

"You're gonna be bigger than me. Bigger than your old man," Randy said quietly. Again, could it be the knock in the head Cody took that allowed Randy to say these things that Cody could hear? Probably not. Either way, he stuck around just long enough to make sure Cody was ok, before he headed out.

"Take care of the girls and I'll see you soon, bro."

"Yeah, see you Tuesday. And don't get your ass handed to you by Evan."  
>He teased, finishing his water.<p>

"Lucky you got hit in the head or I'd kick you in the skull," he chuckled, before patting Cody's shoulder and showing himself to the door. "You get rest, or I'm comin' back to kick your ass."


	2. Chapter 2

"So scared, you almost make me want to stay up, just to prove a point." Cody joked. "And I beat you once already."

"Get dressed. I'm taking you for a CAT scan because talkin' shit like that means it's a concussion," Randy winked.

"For real though, Codes..get some sleep. I'm gonna do the same. Just have some shit to take care of and a couple calls to make. See you soon, 'k?"

Cody nodded. "And thanks man, for helping me out. Don't think I would have made that drive back to the hotel."  
>He said, sitting on the edge on the bed.<p>

"Would've kicked your ass if you tried it by yourself."

Randy waited until Cody got -in- bed before leaving, because the light switch was by the door. It's just what he did, like the mother fucking hen.

Authors' notes:  
>The * * notations broke the story up into two parts, separating the writers. One wrote for Randy Orton's part, the other for Cody's. This story was actually written just over a year ago, ending July 19, 2010. With that in mind, there are outdated references to other characters who were a part of their lives at that time, that the casual reader may not understand.<p>

For new work, or to write with these writers, feel free to visit our roleplaying forum. The link is in our profile. Thank you. Reviews and comments welcome.


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